Obsidian Abyss
by pinkiedoll
Summary: He pushed his heels to halt; only to find that his life was in the fast lane; and not much could slow the pace. A couple nights here and there in the speakeasies were one thing- but being in the debt of one of the "Big Cheeses" was not something he desired, per say. A couple things go bump in the night, but hell if this man will back down. (AU) (Adult!Reborn) (Eventual R27) (R&R)
1. Chapter 1

**Pinkie's Part: I'm a terrible author- I've become one with the plot bunnies, and I apologize for the lack of updates for Sense of Familiarity, and Monochromatic Sun. If you're a new viewer, whilst you wait for an update here; let those and other stories I've spun, entertain you n.n Drop a review on your way out- this is a trial fic; we'll see how you all respond to it!**

**ja ne,**

**Pinkie Out**

**xx**

_Chapter: Woven in Shadow_

In the grey dusk, shadows loomed over shady figures. The constant sway of hot breath in the night air was accompanied by hushed syllables- ones that fell from tight-lipped mouths; these were but whispers in the dead of night. The cobblestone streets were flithy, lined solely with the disappointment of many parents- as well as the shattered dreams of those who spent too much time in the speakeasies.

The alley was dark and damp, and a few bodies were slumped up against the outer walls of the building in a drunken stupor- too much of that giggle water had them all tuckered out. It wasn't odd to see these types of things, especially when you were _the big cheese_-needing a much deserved rest having pushed papers all day and dealing with too much even more often than they could handle.

A tall, lithe form was pressed comfortably against the threshold of the backdoor to the establishment. His white shirt tucked in behind a black suit and a fedora was placed immaculately atop his inky hair. Aside from this moment however-

Hat in hand and other palm pressed flat against the base of his neck, his slicked back hair awry as small clouds of tobacco smoke left his parted pout. He manuvered the cancer stick to the other side of his mouth, using just his tongue- eyes closing in content as he inhaled deeply and then blew out silently.

He plucked the cigarette from his lips and snuffed it out on the brick nearest him, before flicking it away. The disipating cherry red butt flashing listlessly before drowing in a murky puddle someways away.

_(I pray that we would meet, some day some place, some where-_

_Then Heaven sent me down an angel- to answer my prayer.) _

The soft tune came from within the speak easy, and the man released a heavy sigh. His leather soled shoes left soft taps on the cobblestones as he made his way back into the establishment. The smoke that covered his sight was annoying; but he fought to keep his eyes open, the familiar sting was welcoming. The sway of bodies was in a drunken dance as the jazz music filled his ears. He closed his eyes breifly, before scanning the room for a familar face. He was slightly disappointed- when his line of sight settled on his next target. A cocky smirk lit up his face as he replaced his fedora atop his head and made his way through the smoke screen and sweat slicked bodies.

He shifted in shadows, with an unrivaled predatory grace, as he came upon the person in his sights. His gaze lingered momentarily on the person's back, before he silently brought one hand to his breast pocket. A glimmer was seen in a flash, before he leaned. His unoccupied hand rested on the shoulder before him, before sliding on the edge of the loveseat, before grabbing a small pillow. He pressed the pillow to the back of the loveseat, directly in line with the man's back.

His breath ghosted across the person's neck, as he whispered his statement of goodbye- the cylinder clicked and the gunpowder caught fire. The muffled gunshot, unheard as the man slumped forward, eyes open and suprised.

The assailant pulled the leaning form backwards, closing the eyes and settling the other in a position that was closely resembled to sleep. He slipped the bullet casing into his pocket, and strode away from the scene.

Walk, never run- was his motto, as he was reaquainted with the damp air of the outdoors. He pulled a cigarette from the elegant case in his suit pocket, before igniting the end and inhaling deeply. He flicked his fedora upwards, and smirked at the moon.

His near silent footsteps clicked on the cobblestone streets, as his eyes scanned the area for a telephone booth. As he ventured towards one, he fingered the edge of the nickel in his trousers' pocket. He opened the accordion door and enclosed himself inside. He scanned the area, making sure that no one was within hearing distance, as he picked up the receiver, slid the coin into the slot and waited for the dial tone.

Upon the third click- a voice answered groggily. Upon the sound of that voice, a wiked smirk graced those sinful lips, a single word left that mouth; and a sent a chill up the associate's spine.

"_Ciao_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Pinkie's Part: Well, seems like some are slightly interested in this! I will do my best to update as soon as I am able. I do however have others that I am also trying to update concurrently with this one- so I appreciate your patience in advance! :D thank you so much for your feedback!**

**Onward!**

Chapter: Empathy is not Sympathy

Rain pelted gently onto the streets in a serene symphony. The sleepless city was caught in a rare scene of peace. The city lay in darkness as a man pulled the collar of his coat up higher. His fedora adjusted just slightly to catch more of the icy water. A disgruntled sigh slipped into the night air as those footfalls faded away.

The soft sounds of wet footsteps halted in front of a beat-up red door. The wood was worn and dented- as though the previous occupants got into some serious debts with the 'Big Cheeses' of this area.

The man looked both ways before he pulled a pin from within his sleeve. An ear was pressed discretely upon the surface of the wood- double checking to ensure that there were no signs of life within the little run-down house. Upon being introduced to silence, he flicked his wrist and the lock popped open with little protest.

He proceeded into the heart of the house- taking in it's ransacked appearance. A shake of his head was the only indication of resentment. But considering his current situation, beggars could not be choosers. Careful hands righted a tipped loveseat, quietly. He shrugged off his damp coat and lay it out to dry. He curled his long legs and lay down to rest. The rain had grown heavier, and was the lullaby by which his conciousness would fade.

A gentle humming was heard before his mind took over, the fluttering lashes were a tell-tale sign of sleep coming forth. Though the other knew he would regret the images projected upon the cream coloured canvases of his eyelids. The scenes from his latest hit were flashing upon the surface, a grimace on his face as he fought his eyelids to stay closed. This was an everyday occurance- one he should be used to by now. The steady sound of rain coming down, doing little to help his frantic heart in the panic it presented from his guilt. As the nightmare came to a close, his heartbeat began to slow. The faceless guilt receeded back into his subconcious, as it decided to let him rest properly for once.

(TinySteps)

The soft sound of rustling bed sheets were accompanied by gentle sighs of slumber. Sunlight streamed effortlessly through the solfe set of windowblinds. One arm rested upon plush pillows as an accompanied elbow pushed a tired torso upwards.

Amber eyes fluttered open sleepily as a pink pout parted to give proper welcoming to the new day. A yawn slipped off that tongue and an eyebrow arched. Something seemed amiss- an annoying twange in the pit of his stomach warned him of something. But the thin male pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as his thoughts wandered, his gaze scanning the inside of his hotel room.

A long night had been spent at the man's new project- a run down old home in which he had every intention of fixing up. He stretched, before two feet peeked out from beneath the bedcovers and padded gently onto the floor. His plan of action had been set, and the first priority on that list was a shower; and after- a trip into town to pick up cleaning supplies and a decent cup of coffee.

(ActFrist, AskLater)

A small sound- one in which was so miniscule that a person would have had to be anticipating it in order to have registered it. This sound, was something a kin to items being placed on a table, and a soft sigh.

Tired eyes opened harshly and scanned the perimeter of the small, dusty front room. Obsidian pools hardened into coals as the small noises once more ventured into his ears.

His favourite pistol was gripped tight in his hand as the man rolled off of the loveseat and onto the floor. He stood in one fluid motion, his footsteps masked by both his skill and the fine layer of dust on the floor. His stealth was unrivaled as he made his way down the small hall, following the origin of the sound. Upon sliding into the brightly lit kitchen- his gun raised and poised to fire.

The suited man stay still as he stared at the intruder in his new found hideout. A slim, feminine person was making busy work putting items across the counter- and these items were easily identified as household cleaners. An eyebrow arched as he made his way silently around the person, when he saw them tense up- as if feeling his presence. The person turned around slowly, wide eyes searching before sighing and returning to the task.

Amber eyes were hidden beneath furrowed brows, and a frustrated yelp left those pink lips.

"Ah! Where did I put that window cleaner! It was right here!"

The suited man watched in mild amusement as the small person was uncovered to be a male. The soft voice was adorable in a sense; and his antics were even more amusing. In his frantic attempt to find the item that was currently in the suited man's grasp, his ID card fell from his jacket pocket.

The fedora wearing male scooped it up, read the information- and decided to be mischevious. He let the smaller male fret for five more minutes, before he settled himself on the corner of the marble counter top. He braced himself before he spoke out, holding the small container aloft in his large hand-

"Looking for this, Tsunayoushi?"

The smaller male stopped, and hesitantly turned towards the sound of the voice. Upon being greeted with the sight of a handsomely dressed man, who he assumed was the one who had spoken- his eye twitched.

"It's Tsuna!..A-are you...a g-ghost?"

The man chuckled, a short, breathy sound. Half his face shadowed by the fedora as he whispered, just loud enough for the Tsuna to hear;

"I am a hitman..I make ghosts." With that, the man slid off the counter, set the container of window fluid down and stalked towards the small male. He raised his gun and clicked the safety off.

"Any last words, before you meet your maker?"

The small male had tears pricking the outter rims of his eyes, before he squeaked.

"C-can I at least...know the name of my k-killer?"

The man smirked, and seeing no harm in such a little request- decided to humour the brunette.

"They call me Reborn, little Tsuna. Ci-" He paused, the smell of something delicious creeping into his nostrils. He tilted his head and peered down at the shaking male. He brought his gun down and manuvered around Tsuna, until he was nearly face to face. He dismissed the blush on the petite person's face as he reached around him and grasped the sealed cup. He brought it to his lips and sipped hesitantly. His eyes narrowed as the smaller male peered at him curiosly.

"Is this...espresso?"

Tsuna nodded quickly, his hands curled up near his throat as he watched Reborn drink in deeply. Once the cup was empty, Tsuna couldn't help but feel a little saddened that his beverage was no longer present. Reborn placed the cup on the counter and faced Tsuna once more, before weighing his gun in his hand.

"You'll live..I can't kill a person with such exceptional taste in coffee."

To which Tsuna breathed out a sigh of relief, and with a smile, promptly fainted. The hitman smirked, catching the smaller male- thoughts of interesting introductions being all the more amusing, dancing in his head.


End file.
